Odd and Ends
by FarDareisMai2
Summary: This is where I will post those pieces I'm never sure what to do with. The birthday drabbles & stories we write for our fellow authors, that are our only currency, or the small moments in time inspired by a word or picture or friend. No actual x-overs.
1. Batter My Heart  SC's Bday

_Batter My Heart_

_A/N: This piece was written for SorceressCirce's birthday, and posted with several other wonderful pieces at http:/ bdaysorceresscirce . blogspot . com/ It was preread by both Zigster and naelany, and I appreciate their support and love. I found out that SorceressCirce was a fan of John Donne, as I am, I knew I had to incorporate one of his poems. That she is also a slash lover was just a perk for me. *smirk* It may seem cheeky, irreverent even, to write a love story (and a slash one at that) set to one of Donne's Holy Sonnets, yet Sonnet 14 is probably one of the most sensual poems I've ever read, inspiring images of a virgin set to be ravaged by a lover, all while discussing the narrator's faith in god. It is to me (at least) irreverent itself, and completely inspiring._

_Happy birthday Jen. I hope your day was filled with love and beauty._

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Holy Sonnet XIV

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you  
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;  
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend  
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.  
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,  
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.  
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,  
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.  
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,  
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;  
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,  
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,  
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,  
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

- John Donne

_Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you  
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;_

Seth tries to still the wild beating of his heart, but cannot. Tucking a loose piece of his long, black hair behind his ear, he tries to pay attention to the words, to the speeches being given in his honor, her honor, but all he can do is stare at _him_.

With a wicked smile and a wink, Edward knocks Seth's heart loose in his chest, stealing breath and soothing, mending the hurt and despair this day brings. He rakes his eyes over Seth, staking his claim.

_That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend  
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new._

Walking away from the bathroom, Seth stares at his hands that are dry and red from all the washing. He feels old, despite his scant eighteen years. He feels dirty, and used by those who should love him best.

Strong arms grab him from behind and pull him into a broom closet. The irony is not lost on him. Soft lips press against his neck and warm breath ghosts across his skin.

"You're mine," Edward whispers.

And with his lips and tongue and mouth he breaks Seth apart, and reforges him. It burns across Seth's skin and deep in his gut, until the sensual slide and suck incinerates him, and like the Phoenix, he is reborn and new again.

_I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,  
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end._

Still Seth won't stay. He wants to, oh how he wants to stay, but duty . . . duty. His life has been usurped, planned, and he owes others. He's tried to tell them, labored under their restrictions and strictures, but he can't. He owes them all, and it is their due.

He opens the door and walks back out into the hallway, back toward the inevitable. Back toward _her_.

"Don't," Edward demands.

"What do you want from me?" Seth begs.

"Everything."

"To what end?" Seth asks, and walks away.

_Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,  
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue._

"For love," Edward continues, following him. "For me."

Sam opens the door at the end of the hall.

"You coming?" he asks.

Seth nods. "I'll be right there."

Sam looks at Seth, then at Edward. His mouth is tight, but he says nothing and retreats.

Seth's shoulders shake, and he knows, he _knows_ he should speak up, that he is being condemned to a half life, to a life that, at best, is bearable, but at worst, utter misery. Yet duty, duty traps reason, strangles it and shuts it up.

He walks through the door.

_Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,  
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;_

Looking across the room at Kim, Seth sighs before straightening his shoulders. He can _feel_ Edward follow him into the room. Like a compass needle to a magnet, he senses Edward, always in his ambit.

Kim looks up, past Seth and her eyes light on Edward, and sadness suffuses them. She knows, Seth realizes.

She knows.

Yet, she too is bound by destiny and duty, their bloodlines bound by history, their families by marriages for millennia.

Circumstances make Edward her competition, her enemy.

Seth closes his eyes. _I'm sorry, Edward. I love you, with every broken piece of my heart, I love you._

He steps closer to his betrothed and stands beside her.

_Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,  
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,_

Knees trembling, Seth tries to utter the words he must say to accept this inevitability, but they won't come.

He doesn't want this.

She doesn't want this.

Yet _they_ do.

He isn't strong enough, but Edward is. Seth turns to him, eyes pleading. _Save me. Save me from them, from myself._

_Take me away from here._

The tribal elder begins to speak, but Edward interrupts.

"No."

A shocked gasp ripples through the room, and Kim sags in relief.

Angry voices erupt, and there is plenty of shouting and waving of arms.

Edward steps forward, until Seth can almost feel the heat of him. Edward takes Seth's hand and utters the one word that unravels it all.

"Mine."

_Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,  
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me._

Enthralled as he is by Edward, Seth misses the happy smile that erupts on Jared's face, or the look he flashes at Kim.

Seth's father looms over them, angry and shouting.

Seth looks up. "Goodbye, Dad. I love you, but . . . this? I . . . I can't." And he walks out of the room with Edward.

Soon they're alone, and Edward is all over him. His hands and mouth are remapping the world all over Seth's body.

"I love you," Edward whispers between kisses, between Seth's thighs. "I love you."

When Edward presses into him, slow and hot, then deep and relentless, his words wash over Seth like a prayer. "Never again," and "mine" and "love" and "forever," intermingle with "perfect," and incoherent rambles that sound like "fuck," and "hot," and "Christ."

Strong hands hold Seth, and a hard body moves over him, and as his lover ravishes him body and soul, Seth starts flying, free for the first time in his life.

As he comes back down, he feels Edward shaking and coming apart above him, around him, in him, and Seth wraps his arms about him, holding him, holding them together as they surrender to each other.

Edward's lips brush over his, as Seth breathes thank yous into his mouth, and they lay there, their bodies touching at every point and curve, fingers entwined, until neither knows where one of them begins and the other ends.


	2. Flaming Youth  Nic's Bday

**Flaming Youth

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**_A/N: Happy bday Nic! I hope you enjoy this little ficlet. Blame your girl, YogaGal for the picspiration!_

_Muchas gracias to Yoga and Zigs for their beta eyes. Any mistakes remaining are all mine._

_As always, these boys belong to SM, I just like to play with them._

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Edward finished drying off, and tossed the towel on the floor. Padding naked across his childhood room, he snickered as he stared at the _Star Wars_ poster with its prominent picture of Luke and Leia. He remembered the first time he found himself fantasizing about the defined chest and arms exposed by the way Luke clutched the light saber, as opposed to the leg Leia was showing through the slit of her dress. Unlike most of his friends, by the time he saw _Return of the Jedi_, he _knew_ it wasn't Leia's slave-girl costume that was getting him hard, but the way Han's ass looked in those snug pants, and the militant look of his jack boots.

He opened the top drawer of his childhood dresser, and laughed again to find some of his old socks and underwear. Didn't his mom ever throw anything out? God, he was twenty-eight years old, home for his ten-year high school reunion and his room looked just like it did the day he left for college. He hadn't thought about it much over those early years, particularly since he was only home for a few days, maybe a week at a time, but it had been six years since he'd been back and the realization that his parents had left his room untouched in that time was a little sad.

He shouldn't have stayed away so long.

He laughed once more at the sight of his old KISS poster, remembering with slight horror the crush he'd developed on Gene Simmons, or more specifically on that wicked tongue of his. Once he found out what the man looked like without his make-up and leathers, even that tongue could do nothing for Edward. Besides, Edward had figured out a long time ago that he much preferred a different type of look, one that more closely resembled Luke Skywalker.

In fact, he preferred a particular someone that looked like Luke Skywalker, although that was neither here nor there. Though he and Jasper had been close once, distance and time had strained their friendship. But that wasn't what had killed the friendship. No, that had been Edward's doing. After that Christmas break during their junior year of college, Edward had begun to pull away. He just couldn't take the heart ache anymore, the wistful longing, the never ending desire to be the one in Jasper's bed, in his heart; a desire that could never be fulfilled. It was easier, instead, to cut off contact, to bury himself in his studies, and then in his work abroad.

It had been a long time since Edward had seen Jasper, and life had moved on. There'd been several lovers in those intervening years, and although Edward hadn't found the "One" yet, he was hopeful that someday he'd find him. Shaking his head, he looked down to see that he was clutching a pair of his old socks, and with a chuckle, he pulled them on, laughing at himself in the mirror – naked but for a pair of striped gym socks.

He flopped down on his bed, grimacing a little at the uncomfortable, old mattress. He didn't recall it being quite so lumpy. Then a memory struck him. He reached his hand under the mattress and found his old magazine stash. He laughed looking at some of the silly _Playgirl_ covers, although the one of Marky Mark wasn't that silly at all. He thumbed through them for a minute before shoving them back in their hiding place.

Lying back down, Edward realized he was more than a little nervous about going to the reunion. In fact, truth be told, he was terrified of going. He wasn't embarrassed to see his former friends and classmates—he'd made quite a successful career for himself as a foreign correspondent, gaining a peculiar sort of celebrity status during the Second Gulf War. No, he was scared because he didn't know if Jasper would be there.

He closed his eyes, remembering the last time he saw Jasper. They were at Mike's house, enjoying an impromptu get together with several old classmates, and using the Newton's indoor pool. Edward could see the way the water rolled down Jasper's skin as he surfaced and grabbed the edge to pull himself up and out of the pool. He remembered the way Jasper's hair had been slicked back, instead of hanging in his face and obscuring his cerulean blue eyes. Edward remembered wanting to trace the strong jaw with his tongue, and feel the soft pillow of Jasper's lips against his.

Eyes still shut, Edward's hand drifted down to fist his hard cock. He imagined that they were alone that day in the pool, imagined that he swam over and positioned himself between the set of strong legs that languidly kicked the water as Jasper sat on the edge. In his mind, those legs wrapped around him and pulled him close, close enough for Edward to lick the drop of water that was sliding down Jasper's chest. Edward's hips came up off the mattress and his hand sped up, as he imagined the feel of Jasper's hard cocked trapped between them as they kissed.

"Jasper," he whispered into his childhood room as he felt his orgasm approaching.

"Yes," he hissed as he imagined those long fingers fisting his hair and that wide, beautiful mouth greedily sucking on his neck.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as his balls tightened when he imagined Jasper saying, "Want to watch you ride me."

A moan cut through his fantasy haze, and Edward's eyes fluttered open to see a shock of blond hair and the bluest eyes gazing at him. Jasper was leaning against Edward's closed door, the heel of his hand pressed against the fly of his pants. "Don't stop," Jasper groaned.

The sight of Jasper's eyes watching him, of Jasper's obvious arousal, and the sound of his voice as he begged Edward not to stop, undid him. With a final cry, Edward's orgasm ripped through him, his come splashing across his abdomen, coating his chest. His eyes slid shut, as his post-orgasmic brain tried to process what had just happened.

"That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."

Edward's eyes opened again and regarded Jasper warily. He was completely exposed, physically and emotionally. "Why are you here?" he asked.

Jasper took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I heard you were in town for the reunion, and your mom let me in. I wanted to see you . . . to talk about . . . to understand what happened, why you ran away. But I think . . . I think I might have my answer."

Turning his head, Edward felt the blush rise in his cheeks and across his chest. Then the bed dipped and warm fingers were on his chin, forcing him to look at Jasper.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Edward barked a laugh. "Seriously? You're straight, Jasper. You had a girlfriend. What was I supposed to say? _Sorry, but I think I'm in love with you and want you to fuck me into the mattress?_ I'm sure that would have gone over like a lead balloon."

Jasper's eyes widened at Edward's statement, and Edward could feel his cheeks heat up more as he realized what he'd just admitted.

"Idiot," Jasper told him. "Such a fucking idiot," he repeated before leaning down to claim Edward's mouth in a searing kiss. When he broke it off, he leaned his forehead against Edward's "I broke up with Alice the day I got back to school after break . . . right after I realized I was in love with my best friend."

Jasper pulled back, looking at Edward. Now he was the one exposed.

Heart pounding in his chest, Edward couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why didn't you say anything?" he whispered.

"I was afraid. I'd just realized that I was gay, and then you pulled away and I thought you hated me . . ." he trailed off.

Edward shook his head. "No, I never hated you. I was . . . I was running away from you."

Jasper's fingers brushed a fringe of hair off Edward's forehead. "No more running, Edward."

Nodding his head in agreement, Edward whispered, "Never again." He reached up, curving his hand behind Jasper's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Never again," he murmured before their lips met once more.

As their tongues slid against each other again and again, and their mouths began to map one another, Edward thought that the reunion was going to be much more interesting than anyone anticipated.

Much more interesting.

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_a/n: Flaming Youth is the name of a track off of KISS's 1976 album, Destroyer. _

_This is the link to the picture that inspired this story. _**http : / tinyurl(dot)com / 6avgnqc**


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